


Towards Home

by rawnbones4 (iKain2)



Series: Oranges and Lemons: Reeves of Lunden [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Injury, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Road Trips, Romance, Spoilers for Suthesexe Arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:35:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27702178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iKain2/pseuds/rawnbones4
Summary: On the way back to Lunden from Suthsexe, Erke and Stowe make camp at the Cistern Tower.
Relationships: Erke/Stowe (Assassin's Creed)
Series: Oranges and Lemons: Reeves of Lunden [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025985
Comments: 6
Kudos: 78





	Towards Home

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently Erke got injured during the Suthsexe Arc. I was running around for a good 20 minutes trying to find them after the forward camp, so I guess that made sense.
> 
> Also: These two probably have a 200k slow burn friends-to-lovers story culminating in a quiet declaration of love right as Lunden is set ablaze that Ubisoft will never release. Give me more Erke/Stowe, cowards!!

It was not a sword or spear that injured Erke, but only Stowe knew the truth when he’d found his partner head-over-ass on a bloody patch of dirt, surrounded by a good pile of dead men, after the siege of Portcestre had finished.

“Odin’s balls, Stowe, get this fucking thing out of me—” Erke’s face was as pale as a sheet of vellum, but the absolute murder in his eyes said volumes about how much more annoyed he was at the situation compared to the pain he must be feeling.

The adrenaline from battle having faded some time ago, Stowe couldn’t hold back a brief huff of laughter as he knelt down next to the other reeve.

About a fourth of an arrow had gone clean through the meat of Erke’s left asscheek, just above the crease of his thigh. It was not deep and had stopped bleeding for the moment, but it was certainly at an inconvenient angle for a man to pull out himself without having to rip off his trousers first.

“Brace yourself. This is going to hurt.” Stowe placed a hand on Erke’s back, grasping the arrow shaft. He gave his partner about a second before he pulled the arrow out with one smooth motion.

Erke hissed between gritted teeth, his hands going to the wound. Stowe batted his hands away, instead getting a piece of clean linen from his pack and dousing it in a bit of alcohol. “Thank the Gods it didn’t hit my c— **_FUCKING HELL!_** ”

“Hold on for just a bit Erke! I need to clean the wound!” Stowe ducked underneath a flailing fist, pinning the other reeve down the best he could. When he was done and wrapped it the best he could, Erke had calmed down enough to muffle his cries of pain by biting into the cloth of his coat sleeve. “There, you’ll be right as rain in no time, hm?”

“Help me up, you shit-bucket.” Erke slapped his hand against Stowe’s arm, trying to get to his feet, but failing miserably. He could barely lift his left leg without pain radiating down the entire limb.

“Oh, I’m a shit-bucket again, am I?” Smiling, Stowe tugged the other man up, shouldering most of his weight on his left side. “Keep that up and I’ll just drop you right here and head off back to Lunden without you.”

“You’d be eaten alive out in these wilds on the first night without me, sparrow-heart.” Erke grunted as they took careful steps towards Stowe’s horse, which was already saddled with the supplies needed for their journey back to Lunden. With Eivor having gone straight back to Ravensthorpe as quickly as he could after recovering his brother, there really was no need for the two reeves to linger here among the other viking clans that were also preparing to leave the area.

“I’d make a poor meal for the beasts. You, on the other hand, they might like the meat on your arse since it was enough to catch an arrow.”

Erke glared up at the horse, who stared balefully back at him. It would take an hour for him just to get on, not to mention riding in his state would be excruciatingly painful.

Stowe looked at Erke, who looked back at him. It took a moment before Erke realized what was going through the other reeve’s mind.

“Oh, no, don’t you dare—"

Stowe abruptly bent down, heaved a wildly protesting Erke over his shoulder, and then tossed him sideways onto the horse like a sack of potatoes. Then, he got onto the saddle with a grin. “Well, Lunden’s not going to wait for us. Hang on tight if you don’t want to fall off, love.”

“Stowe, you fucking—"

* * *

The road to Lunden from Portcestre was a journey that took at least a week over horseback, if not longer with stops to rest in-between. As such, by the time Stowe had rode to the collapsed remains of the Cistern Tower with the intention of making camp for the night, Erke had long since quieted into grumpy mumblings against the back of the saddle.

The Cistern Tower was devoid of any residents, although based off the scattered remains of pots and hay, they would not be the first nor the last to make use of the place as a temporary shelter. Stowe carried their supplies up first before hauling Erke up the stairs, the man clinging to him tiredly the entire way and wincing whenever he was jostled.

Stowe had to rest for a bit after setting his partner down by the wall, sitting down next to him as he breathed heavily. Erke was not the largest man he knew, but he was certainly a heavy one and even more so with his armor on. “How are you feeling?”

“Kill me now.” Erke’s head lolled against his own. The ties in his hair had long since become messy, and he hadn’t had the time to fix it. “Why does an arrow to the ass hurt so fucking much. How am I even going to work when we get back to Lunden – I can’t just sit on my ass all day.”

Humming in sympathetic agreement, Stowe pressed a chaste kiss to the side of Erke’s head. There was no one around to see them or judge them for their love, so it felt good to be able to be like this, open and free to do as he pleased. “I’m sure we can find a better salve than field dressings to help you recover faster. Now, lie down so I can check on the wrappings.”

“Ergh.” Erke slid himself face-first onto the bedroll with a groan. “Make it quick. I just want to sleep.”

Stowe tugged down Erke’s trousers, checking the wound. It had bled through the layers, but it wasn’t seeped in blood entirely, so that was a good sign. He would need to close the wound with some stitching though, if Erke was to avoid catching an infection. “Hmm, I will need to clean this again and re-wrap it. Let me put on the kettle to heat up some water.”

Erke raised a hand in his general direction and then let it flop back down. Whatever his reply, it was muffled into the bedroll, so Stowe took it as a yes.

It didn’t take long for Stowe to get a fire going. There was a cistern behind the tower that provided some water to use, so it was only a few minutes until Stowe had a boiling pot of water. He also took the opportunity to run a needle through the fire to cleanse it, and then grabbed some thread he’d kept just in case of their clothing needed fixing after the battle.

With some water he had set aside to cool to a lower temperature, Stowe dipped a cloth in it and started to wipe away the dried blood on Erke’s skin. When that was done, he doused his last rag in some alcohol and prodded at Erke’s back with his finger. “Stitching this up is going to hurt a lot. You will want to bite at something.”

Erke’s head shifted slightly, though he didn’t turn over completely. “Belt?”

Stowe unbuckled his belt, handing the leather over to Erke, who shoved it between his teeth.

The alcohol-doused rag had Erke hissing again in pain, but worst was yet to come and he knew it.

Stowe tried to work as quickly as he could, using needle and thread to close up the small wound. He was not the best at sewing, but he aimed to keep his stitches close in size so that it could begin the slow healing process on its own. When he finished, Erke was trembling minutely, though he had not cried out a single time with the belt in his mouth.

Stowe pressed a soft kiss onto the skin a few inches above the wound, right over another scar that he had also helped his lover with months ago. Afterwards, he tugged up Erke’s trousers and took his belt back; the deep teeth-marks in the supple leather would likely never come off. “All done. You’ll be back to running around Lunden in no time, love.”

“Great.” Erke grumbled, still not moving from the bedroll. “G’night.”

Stowe sighed and grabbed a dried ration from one of their bags. Keeping watch would be his sole duty for tonight, though he didn’t mind.

After a long while as he watched the stars slowly travel across the dark skies, his gaze drifted back to his lover, who was snoring softly. He’d tucked his cloak around him for warmth, although he had shifted slightly to press his head against Stowe’s thigh. The Dane’s hair was in completely disarray, and would be a sight to see in the morning.

Stowe undid the ties, using his fingers to comb through the knots and tangles that had set in. With the help of the moonlight, he gathered up his love’s hair and slowly braided it back into its usual style. It didn’t take long – he’d been doing Erke’s hair for years, by this point – but he always felt a warmth stirring in his heart at seeing Erke so peaceful in his sleep.

When the sun finally rose with a soft golden light shimmering across the green fields, Stowe blinked sleepily and then hid a yawn behind his hand. He nudged the other reeve awake with a gentle touch to the nose. “Wake up, Erke. We should get moving.”

“Alright, alright.” Erke blearily wiped at his face. “I’m up, sparrow-heart.”

Stowe quickly packed up their things. By the time Erke finished struggling stubbornly down the stairs, Stowe was waiting for him by the horse, ready to go.

“It doesn’t hurt as much now. I can sit, just let me lean on you.” Erke patted the horse’s side.

Stowe gave Erke a look, before nodding. “We’ll go slower and take more stops along the way, then.”

Stowe helped the other man onto the horse first before getting on. He felt Erke pressed up against his back, head tucked into the crook of his neck and shoulder, and with arms wrapped around his middle.

Smiling to himself, Stowe nudged the horse into a slow walk. They would have plenty of time until they reached Lunden, so perhaps they would see more of England before returning home.


End file.
